Anthypophora (an’-thi-po’-phor-a): A figure of reasoning in which one asks and then immediately answers one’s own questions (or raises and then settles imaginary objections). Reasoning aloud. Anthypophora sometimes takes the form of asking the audience or one’s adversary what can be said on a matter, and thus can involve both anacoenosis and apostrophe.
There is only so much you can do, but you must do something—save money? Spend money! Give it away? No way! Maybe. I don’t know. Stuck again in the tangle of imagined consequences for whatever I do, I don’t have any money or prospects of earning any. I believe money is the fruit of all evil. Accordingly, I am a barter-man. No money, just goods. It’s about trading stuff that is not valued in terms of a price, but valued in terms of another thing—where two separate things are desired by two people. and to some extent have a perceived equal value. Disparities can be filled in by items of lesser value. Like, you might be trading a bicycle for a lawnmower. To bring the bicycle “up to value” you may have to “throw” in a garden tool or a charcoal grill. It’s complicated, but it runs on gut instincts that existed before money scaled value numerically with metallic substitutes—much more portable than things—showing up with a bag of silver instead of a used catapult made things go more easily. But, I don’t give a damn.
I am looking to trade my burial urn. It is unused—ha ha. I am looking for 20 1qt. glass canning jars. I think I have about 10 years to live and would like to make strawberry preserves before I die. After I make 2 or 3 batches, I’ll trade back for another burial urn, and I’ll be good to go. Or, I might keep the jars and use them for my ashes.
Bartering is a real challenge. There’s a newsletter called “Swap It” that lists goods for trade. A few weeks ago it included an ad for “slightly damaged cardboard boxes of government documents for trade in exchange for safe and permanent exile.” They were for trade by John Barron at a post office box in Florida. There was also John Kennedy’s brain. I asked, and they sent me a picture of the brain in a freezer. It looked real, even down to the hole in it. I told them I could trade it for one of the boots John Glen wore when he orbited the earth. I had gotten it in a trade for Jim Morrison’s leather pants that he had been wearing before he fell in the tub with a space heater in Paris. My offer was angrily rejected, because it wasn’t “in kind.” That was a pretty vague dodge, so I did some research. I discovered that the”brain” people had been busted for selling falsely attributed body parts. They were sketchy, but, that’s the risk you deal with when you barter.
My worst experience was trading for Gene Vincent’s leg brace. He was a 50s Rock ‘n Roll singer. I had to have the brace and had a coin operated motorcycle ride—like the ones they used to have in front of grocery stores.—that I wanted to trade. I drove my pick-up with the ride loaded in the back to the Dick’ parking lot where I was supposed to meet the guy with the leg brace to trade. A blue ‘54 Chevy pick-up pulled up. A guy with a balaclava on jumped out swinging the leg brace and yelling “Be-bop I love ya’ Baby!” He smashed my truck’s windshield. He made me get out of my truck and made me help carry the motorcycle ride and load it on his truck.
I sat on my running board an cried. That was all I could do. At that point I decided to scale back on my bartering. Now I make wind chimes and trade them for food, clothing and a little money. I make my wind chimes out of lids from pots and pans, and also, used license plates I get for free at the DMV. I’ve also started rifling through recycling bins for items to trade or making things from. Currently, I’m working on a giant tin aluminum ball and soup can pencil and pen caddies.
AARP is writing an article about me. It’s called “Dismal Days and Nights.” It is about a man who failed to plan for his retirement and has been rejected by his family. Then, he invents a pencil and pen caddy and becomes a millionaire.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)
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